


Prisoners Of Us All

by queen_of_iceni



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Romance, angsty and the beginning but not all the way through, but everything else is, except it rlly is canon compliant, i personally think its canon, just not the very VERY end, kind of, so i guess i can say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26032057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_iceni/pseuds/queen_of_iceni
Summary: Prisoner of Azkaban from Remus Lupin's perspective. Remus returns to Hogwarts as a professor and the ghosts of his past that he had avoided for the past twelve years dog his footsteps like... well, like Padfoot. He can't escape the past and certain people may force him to face it for the first time in twelve years.Wolfstar implied at the beginning and endgame Wolfstar. This is canon compliant except the ending is a little deviant (not enough to change the course of the story, except I like to think Tonks and Remus would not - read: should not - get married).DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this. The dialogue is all accurate from the story (or should be) so I REALLY don't own that.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

Remus Lupin eyed his calendar wearily. When he was younger - but not young - he had crossed off each day until the next full moon. Now the dates were imprinted behind his eyelids, and he was reminded of his fate every time he shut his eyes. Or looked in the mirror. Or breathed.

His doorbell rang. This should not have been an unusual occurrence, but it was, for Remus at least. The only human contact he had had for the past thirteen years was failed job interviews and the occasional sympathetic Floo visit from Professor McGonagall.

When he opened the door, it was the aforementioned Professor McGonagall who stood on his doorstep, straight-backed and stern faced even as the rain beat down around her.

“Professor,” Remus greeted. “Come in.”

She stepped inside, neatly removing her cloak, “How many times have I told you to call me Minerva, Remus?”

“It feels like blasphemy,” Remus said with a wry smile. 

“Very well, though you may not always feel that way,” McGonagall said, turning to face him. She didn’t take a seat even though he absentmindedly gestured to it. He would’ve sat, but there was only one armchair and he wanted to leave it available to her. Besides, he had to make a pot of tea. It was common etiquette. 

“Why are you here, Professor? Not that I don’t enjoy your company.” Remus had a sneaking suspicion what she was here to talk about. Or rather, who. He kept an eye on the Muggle news, and was very aware of what was going on. He could feel the name in his heart, like the chanting of some ancient ritual that would summon his childhood back to him.

_Sirius, Sirius, Sirius._

“I am here to offer you a position at Hogwarts,” McGonagall said with no preamble. Remus started, nearly pouring boiling water on himself.

“A… position?”

It had been so long since Remus had had an actual job that he had forgotten what it was like to do anything other than guard the bathroom that was the entrance to the Ministry. He barely had enough money to cover this threadbare flat, but that was better than it had been in May, when he had been sleeping on the streets.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” McGonagall admitted.

“Ah,” Remus said. The cursed position. Each teacher lasted only a year.

“If it makes you feel better, the last teacher ended up with a modified memory,” she said. “There was no loss of life involved.”

“Modified memory?” Remus almost chuckled. “Is there any way I could pay _you_ for that?”

“Oh, Remus,” McGonagall said disapprovingly, but not without affection. “You have, I assume, heard the news.”

Remus ducked his head in acknowledgement. He didn’t trust himself to speak, or even to meet her eyes.

_Sirius, Sirius, Sirius_.

“I… erm,” Remus cast around to change the topic of conversation. “How exactly do teachers get to Hogwarts?”

“Usually they pay-”

“Pay?” Remus took a sip of tea. “If I am to get new robes, there is no way I can pay for transportation.”

“Then you can take the Hogwarts Express,” McGonagall said, as though she had anticipated this. “It leaves on September 1st, as always. Is that… compatible with your schedule?”

Remus didn’t even have to think, “The night of August 31st is a full moon, but I can easily make the train if it leaves at ten, as usual.”

McGonagall nodded her consent.

“Professor?” Remus asked, as she stood to leave. He offered her Floo powder, which she accepted gratefully before going to stand in front of his musty fireplace. “Why have you asked me to come teach now? After all these years?”

Professor McGonagall stared out the window, as though Sirius Black might come tearing up the streets with his wild smile and a spell on the tip of his tongue.

“You know why, Remus Lupin,” she said. She lit the fire with a whisper of, ‘ _Incendio_ ,’ and threw the Floo powder in.

“To Hogwarts,” she said in her shrill, steady voice. Remus waited until she disappeared before looking around his cold, dreary flat.

“To Hogwarts,” he echoed. No one responded.


	2. To Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus goes to Hogwarts, and is faced with so many memories he doesn't know what to do with them. Or rather, he knows exactly what to do with them - which is remember - but can't do it.

Remus stumbled into the station, barely aware of any hustle and bustle around him. In fact, there was very little hustle and bustle since it was six in the morning. After he became human he had, quite literally, tugged on his new robes (new was a stretch, since they were second/third-hand) and Apparated to the train station. He made his way to the last compartment, his eyes bleary with sleep and his body heavy with pain. He could feel every new scratch acutely as he moved and lifting his feet felt like running a marathon. Someone may have tried to stop him - the trolly lady? - but his vision was blurring and his hearing was already iffy. He gasped for breath. He needed to sit. He finally made it to the last compartment, which, he knew from experience, was hardly ever full. He, Sirius, James, and Peter, would run to this compartment, except when it had just been a full moon and then they competed - as James proposed - to see who could go slowest. James, who was always arrogant and somehow always kind.

With a heroic amount of effort, he swung his trunk onto the rack. He collapsed into the corner, his eyes falling shut and he fell, blissfully, into sleep.

Remus slept so deeply after every transformation that he didn’t dream, which was lovely after nights upon nights of nightmares. Today was an exception. The dreams were not unpleasant which was even more unusual. He dreamed of his days at Hogwarts - of laughing boys and misplaced glasses and long hair and furtive, loving glances. 

He slept on and on throughout the train ride, hardly stirring, never noticing.

Then, suddenly, his dreams shifted. They grew cold and dark. He could feel his bones and muscles being ripped apart and stitched together. There was a flash of green light, a never ending dread, thirteen people dead, bodies, Lily’s body, James’ body, _James_ -

Remus’ eyes flew open. James was sitting there, in the chair. Remus blinked. His eyes adjusted, and his mind reordered itself. This wasn’t James. His eyes gave him away. Remus, however, had more pressing issues. Harry’s eyes fell shut and he slumped, falling onto the floor. Remus could feel the cold beating into his bones, his worst memories swimming around his eyes. The sensation was all too familiar. There were children around him, scared and huddled, and there, in the doorway, was a dementor. The hooded black thing that could only be searching for one thing. Remus took a step over Harry, trying to shield the worst of the dementor’s powers with his own body.

“None of us are hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks,” Remus said hoarsely. “Go.”

The threat sounded weak to his own ears, and the dementor was not moved. Remus knew what had to be done.

He thought of an evening during their last days at Hogwarts, where he, James, Lily, Sirius, and Peter had skived off History of Magic to push each other in the lake. Immeasurable warmth spread through him, and he muttered,

“ _Expecto patronum_.”

A silvery mist flooded from his wand. Remus never cast a corporeal patronus, though they were much more effective than non-corporeal ones. Of all the patronuses to be saddled with, of _course_ his had been a wolf. The dementor glided away, merely put off by the patronus, not repelled by it. The lights flickered on in the carriage and slowly warmth flooded back into Remus’ core. His nose remained cold. His nose was always bloody cold.

Behind him, the other students had gathered around Harry. He took a second to observe them. Other than Harry, none were familiar, though he recognized the tell-tale shock of red hair that could only belong to the Weasley’s. Or Lily. But he would never see her hair again.

There was a girl with a mane of curly, brown hair, a pudgy faced boy with dark hair, the two Weasleys and Harry. Harry was blinking, and slowly sitting up. His first questions were of confusion and a bit of panic. He said something about screaming. Remus hardly paid attention, he was too busy digging around in his robes. Even the day after a transformation, he always carried his favorite food with him.

He drew a bar of chocolate and began to snap it into pieces. At the noise, the students turned to look at him.

“Here,” he said to Harry. He handed him the largest piece. “Eat. It’ll help.”

Harry took the chocolate. He really looked exactly like James. Instead of the bitter sharpness Remus felt inside him every time he had thought of his friend before, the pain now was like a dull edge. Here was James’ and Lily’s child, sitting in front of him. In another life, Harry would be hugging him and laughing and possibly teasing him along with James. Sirius would be mocking him and telling elaborate stories and - Remus choked down some bile. That life would never be. 

“What was that thing?” Harry asked. He didn’t eat the chocolate. Remus decided not to push, no matter how the sight of Harry’s pale face made him feel all twisted up.

“A dementor,” Remus forced his eyes away from Harry and handed bits of chocolate to the others. Their attention was now fixed on him. He needed to get out of this space when those so much younger than him were looking to him for guidance. Merlin, did he have to look _so much_ like James? “Eat. It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…”

He hurried out of the compartment, hoping his cowardice would be mistaken for practicality. He easily made his way to the front of the train. They were moving again, the dementors were gone, and everyone was scared enough to stay firmly in their compartments. 

“Hello,” Remus greeted the driver. With a jolt of shame, he realized he didn’t know his name, though the man had driven this train for decades, including when Remus went to Hogwarts. He remembered when they had set off a dung bomb in this carriage and hoped fervently the driver didn’t.

“I know,” the driver responded without even looking up. “I should not have stopped. But the dementors made me feel so weak I knew I was unfit to drive the train. I had no choice. I’ll speak to the Headmaster about it.”

“Very well,” Remus said. “When are we arriving at Hogwarts?”

“About ten minutes,” the driver said. “Thank Merlin. I’m feeling all shivery.”

Remus handed him a piece of chocolate. The driver smiled.

“You’re Remus Lupin, aren’t you?” Remus didn’t respond, but the driver pressed on. “The boy who were always with James. What was the name of your little group? The Marauders?”

Remus had to get out of there _now_. The Marauders. He hadn’t heard that title in a long, long time. McGonagall had always been tactful enough to avoid it and Remus had been able to hide his identity from other wizards by simply never introducing himself.

“You set off a dung bomb in my compartment!” the driver said, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Smelled like death for the next few weeks. Actually, it weren’t you, it were...”

He trailed off, glancing sideways at Remus. 

_Sirius, Sirius, Sirius._

Remus excused himself awkwardly, but the driver seemed just as eager for him to go. He was tainted by association, or pitiable by association, both things he had tried his whole life trying to avoid.

He pushed open the door of Harry’s compartment and was warmed by the sight of the boy. Funnily enough, he had expected the opposite effect but the constant reminder of James, alive, was a balm rather than a poison. He allowed a small smile, the first for many years, to spread across his features. He noticed that the chocolate was still untouched.

“I haven’t poisoned the chocolate, you know,” he said, amused. “We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” and then, because he couldn’t help himself, “Are you all right, Harry?”

He cursed himself. He shouldn’t know the boy’s name. But Harry didn’t seem surprised. Of course, everyone in the wizarding world knew his name, knew he was the boy who had defeated Voldemort. But did they know him as the little boy who had ridden a broom into their cat, who called him Uncle Moony, and wouldn’t go to sleep until James had tickled him into exhaustion? When they looked into his eyes did they see many explosive fights, a quick cleverness, determination, loyalty, and bravery to rival James? When they saw his messy hair and glasses did they see late nights, and planning pranks, and wide expanses of lands that signified freedom and safety all at once?

“Fine,” was Harry’s only reply. His cheeks flushed. Remus wanted to hug him, but he restrained himself. Instead, he seated himself by the window once more and stared outside as the scenery transformed. At long last, the platform came into view, and Remus excused himself from Harry’s side to get a carriage by himself. It was humiliating enough to have to ride the train, though he hid it well. He was hardly going to enjoy traveling up to the castle in a cramped space with three strangers.

Perhaps it had been a mistake coming back. He had been worried about planning lessons and being a bad teacher, but now he realized that he had bigger problems. Everything reminded him of the Marauders and everything about the Marauders hurt. He was hardly going to be able to escape news of Sirius here, though the teachers would probably be graceful enough not to mention it.

_Sirius, Sirius, Sirius._

The thestrals pulling his carriage were slow and by the time he reached the castle the others had caught up with him. He emerged to hear some boy mocking the redhead from the train. Weasley. Ron, Remus thought. Or perhaps Percy.

“Is there a problem?” he asked mildly. The pale, blonde boy smirked at him. Remus knew he was looking at the shabby robes, the worn suitcase, the faded scars. He wanted to shrink into himself.

_‘You’re worth thousands of them, Moony,’ James said. ‘They’re lazy, idiotic good-for-nothings that wouldn’t know decency if it showed up naked and then bit them in the arse.’_

_‘I’ll punch him if you want,’ Sirius grinned. ‘Been wanting to deck Avery for ages, ever since I saw him getting all chummy with Reg.’_

Remus straightened, the ghost of a smile playing over his lips. By that time, Malfoy had disappeared up the steps. James and Peter were dead and Sirius was a traitor. He was all that was left of the Marauders. But they were still the Marauders, and always had been. Deep, deep down, he could never think of Sirius of a traitor, no matter how much he protested that he believed it. Not Sirius. And now James, Sirius, and Peter were here, guiding him through Hogwarts, protecting them as they always had.

He could almost forgive their distrust and Sirius’ betrayal. He took a deep breath and made his way up the stairs, towards his broken home.

The feast was as magnificent as he remembered. He hadn’t been this full since he couldn’t think when. Dumbledore’s speech was short and to the point, reminding the students of the dementors and their mercilessness. When he mentioned Invisibility Cloaks, Remus blushed and snuck a glance at Harry, who was hiding a grin. Remus fought a smile. Of course Harry had the cloak. James wouldn’t want it any other way.

The teachers around him were also more pleasant company than he expected. Flitwick’s enthusiasm to talk to him more than made up for the look of loathing Severus Snape kept shooting at him. He had never forgotten Snape, of course, but he had so much to think about and so little he _wanted_ to think about that the man took a back burner in his mind. Snape actually teaching was unthinkable and yet, here he was, glaring at Remus over steak and kidney pudding. Remus was all too used to that look, and not only from Snape, but it was almost better than the pitying eyes of Flitwick or Sprout. There were only three professors that looked at him as they always used to - and they were Dumbledore, Hagrid and, of course, McGonagall. Dumbledore always had a soft spot for the Marauders and Remus had always been a good student. McGonagall had visited him often. And Hagrid - well, Hagrid was no stranger to dangerous beasts and never seemed to mind them quite as much as other people.

Of course, they all knew of his condition - always had, always would. They were used to him by now, the strange little werewolf boy who was so much better behaved than all his friends. Now they didn’t know how to talk to him. They didn’t mention James, or Sirius, or Peter. They didn’t mention his days at Hogwarts, or the days after when they had all but abandoned him. Instead, they all talked of clever spells (Remus had always been a a very clever boy), and which students were good (all obviously skirting around the subject of one Harry Potter), and how horrible the dementors were (they were there to catch Sirius but somehow his name never came up). Remus left the feast feeling simultaneously sated and disconcerted. 

His rooms were much nicer than the freezing, worn-out apartment that had been his home. He unpacked his couple of robes, glanced over his schedule, and sank into bed.

Once there, his mind was occupied with all sorts of things he generally tried to avoid. Above all, there was that little inkling of doubt that Remus tried to quash but never could. Sirius would never betray James. He never would. And yet, he did. Remus couldn’t reconcile it. Not Sirius, the long-haired boy who brought him chocolate after he transformed. Not Sirius, the boy who would have died for James without blinking. Not Sirius, who would have died for _any_ of them, or killed for any of them, without blinking.

 _Stop_ , Remus told himself. _He did. He did, and believing otherwise is dangerous, especially when they’re already watching you._

But as he fell asleep, thoughts of his friend - more than his friend - swirled in his mind.

_Sirius, Sirius, Sirius._

Remus’ classes went surprisingly well. When he was a prefect, he had been able to handle the younger students with kindness and grace, which translated quite nicely into being a good teacher. He won their respect very easily by demonstrating his knowledge of the Dark Arts (how could he not; he was part of a war and he was a product of darkness) and kept it by not assigning too much homework. They all liked him, from first years to seventh years. By Thursday, his last class of the week, he was quite looking forward to meeting the Third Year Gryffindors, which he had been dreading before.

He was halfway to the classroom when he realized that he had forgotten to drink his pain potion. The full moon spasms lasted at least a week after and, though it was the beginning of the day, he could already feel his knees begin to ache. He doubled back and drank it and, subsequently, was a few minutes late to class. They were all chatting amiably when he entered, and Remus was once again struck by how much Harry looked like James, head huddled down, talking excitedly with his tight knit group of friends.

He set his briefcase, which was nearly falling apart, on the table and smiled around at the class.

“Good afternoon,” he said. They all stopped talking and looked up at him. He noticed, then, the quills and parchment on their desks, along with the textbooks. He should have made them open to the page about Boggarts now. He should ask them to read about the spell and wait till next week to try it out.

 _If you have to be a stuffy, old professor, Moony,_ Sirius’ voice-in-his-head said, _at least don’t be a_ boring _stuffy, old professor_.

“Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands,” Remus continued. Damn the Sirius voice in his head. The class began shuffling their books away and glancing around nervously at each other. Remus had seen what their previous two teachers had done, and wasn’t surprised at their lack of enthusiasm for Defense Against the Dark Arts. “Right then. If you’d follow me.”

The class followed him out into the corridor, where he led them up a few staircases. He was blocked from continuing by Peeves who, when he saw it was Remus, let out a song. Remus and Peeves had been almost friends at one point. The Marauders had struck up a tentative alliance with the unwieldy poltergeist. Now that he was a professor, Peeves delighted in reminding him of his past in an insensitive way that none of the other teacher’s dared but Remus found rather refreshing. Remus smiled.

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves,” Remus said. “Mr. Filch won’t be able to get into his brooms.”

What he didn’t mention was that he, James, Sirius, and Peter had hidden in this broom cupboard many, many times - including the time when Filch had caught them. Peeves knew this since he had taunted them about it for weeks afterwards. He gave Remus a knowing look and blew a raspberry at him. Lupin sighed.

“This is a useful little spell,” he informed the students. Peeves’ brows furrowed. Remus was half-sure Snape had come up with it, but he had used it many times to deal with the aftermath of James’, Sirius’, and Snape’s duels. “ _Waddiwasi!_ ”

The wad of gum flew into Peeves nostril and he zoomed away, sending a betrayed look in Remus’ direction. Remus gave him a half smile.

“Cool, sir!” Dean Thomas grinned. Remus had taken the time to put faces with names the night before, and his memory had never let him down yet.

“Thank you, Dean,” he said wryly, and they continued on their way. He led them to the teacher’s lounge, where one Severus Snape reclined. Remus had managed to avoid him up till now, and he fought not to avert his gaze. He reached to shut the door behind him but, of course, Snape had something to say.

“Leave it open, Lupin,” he practically snarled. He stood up, sweeping by the class. He stopped next to Remus. “I’d rather not witness this. Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

Remus immediately knew two things. First - Snape had not changed at all except that he had perhaps grown nastier with age and liked to abuse his power. Secondly, something had happened where Neville Longbottom had showed Snape up, and, as always, the git couldn’t stand it.

 _Prank him_ , the James-voice said.

 _Just duel him_ , the Sirius-voice said.

 _I am a Professor_ , Remus reminded them. They fell silent, probably contemplating how he ended up being a professor. Oh, wonderful. Now he was giving meaning to the silence of the voices in his head.

He raised an eyebrow, “I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably.”

Snape sneered and swept out of the room. Remus snuck a look at Neville, who was bright red.

“Now, then,” he led them to the wardrobe at the end of the room. The Boggart jumped around, scaring a few students. “Nothing to worry about. There’s a Boggart in there.”

Some students gave him scandalized looks, while others merely looked confused. Remus explained what it was doing there, then asked what it was. Hermione answered immediately. She had something of himself in her, an eagerness to learn and teach that wasn’t tempered by shyness or scars. He complimented her accordingly.

“This means,” he went on, “That we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin…” he paused.

 _Go on, do it_ , Sirius-voice urged.

 _Make me proud_ , James-voice added.

“Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Harry’s answer was less concise than Hermione’s, and his voice a good deal less sure, but he hit the nail on the head. Remus practically glowed with pride. His best friend’s son was no slouch in the wizarding world - how could he be, with James and Lily for parents? Remus went on to teach them the incantation and the intent needed. When they had all got the hang of it, he beckoned Neville forward.

“Right, Neville,” he said. “First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

Neville said something soundlessly. Someone in the class laughed. Remus ignored them.

“I didn’t catch that, Neville, sorry,” he said encouragingly.

“Professor Snape,” Neville admitted reluctantly. Remus froze. Here it was, the perfect opportunity to get Snape back for his jibe at Neville earlier. He _was_ a professor now, though. He was supposed to have achieved some level of maturity.

 _Go on, do it_ , the Sirius-voice urged.

 _You’d be standing up for the kid_ , the James-voice said. Ever since sixth year, he had understood Remus’ qualms about pranking a little more. Remus nearly sighed again. He had always let his friends guide him and now, even though neither of them were here, Sirius and James were still influencing him.

“Professor Snape... hmmm,” Remus tried to think of suitable retaliation and struck gold. “Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?”

Neville stammered something, and Remus laid out a plan before him. All it sounded like was teaching them defense, as he was supposed to. Remus only knew differently because the Sirius and James-voices in his head were cheering him on. Neville was nodding now, and the class laughed when the plan was revealed.

Remus took a deep breath. He could still go back. Choose to be a self-respecting adu-

 _Stuffy, old professor,_ Sirius taunted. _Get the slimy git back, Remus. Are you a Marauder or not?_

Remus opened the wardrobe.

Severus Snape stepped out, hand gripping the edge of the wardrobe. Neville took a step back and held up his wand shakily.

“R-r-ridikulus!” he shouted, his eyes screwed almost shut. There was a loud bang and there was Snape, dressed in Neville’s grandmothers clothes. A large grin split Remus’ face, which he quickly squashed.

 _Well done, mate_ ! James-voice congratulated him. _He’ll never live that one down. And you didn’t even do anything wrong. You’re a true Marauder, through and through, Moony_.

 _Enough_ , Remus told himself. This was getting ridiculous. Remus began shouting out names of students and they stepped up one by one, taking their turns. The Boggart began changing so fast it didn’t know what to do. The students were laughing and cheering. He encouraged them and put on some music and they seemed _happy_. He used to laugh like that, carefree in the face of his fears. Then, moments later, the image shattered.

The Boggart loomed in front of Harry, and Remus instinctively threw himself in the way. For a split second, Harry was James and James was in danger and Remus was protecting him as he hadn’t when it was most needed. The dementor shifted, turning into a silvery orb. He would never be able to explain that one.

The moon represented his worst fear, his fear of losing control and hurting those he loved, and being racked with pain and torture throughout the darkness. He had faced a Boggart once during his school days at Hogwarts, and it wasn’t the moon, because by that point his friends had turned into Animagi and he no longer dreaded the long nights. Now, again, the moon was simultaneously his worst enemy and his only companion. He was so used to the constant fear and hatred that it hardly affected him anymore. He sighed.

“Riddikulous,” he pictured Padfoot leaping playfully at him while James reared up on his hind legs, marking the ground with his hoofs to keep score. Remus had been the wolf, but the wolf had also been Remus. His fear dissipated, and the moon cracked into a cockroach. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, ashamed and disappointed. He had to distract them.

“Forward, Neville, and finish him off,” Remus instructed. Neville jumped forward, now glowing with pride, Snape’s jibes forgotten. He successfully sent Snape back into the wardrobe with his laughter, and the class burst into applause.

“Excellent! Excellent, Neville,” he congratulated. The praise came naturally, but Neville looked both startled and pleased. “Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, just as Lily’s did before she was about to point out some injustice, “But I didn’t do anything.”

“You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry,” Lupin said with as little inflection in his voice as possible. He didn't voice the thoughts swirling around his head, though he dearly wanted to. _I have to protect you. I couldn’t protect him. I have to protect you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is literally just scenes of harry and remus from remus' perspective instead of harry, but remus will get up to his own shenanigans, don't you worry :) he is a marauder after all
> 
> also: the james/sirius voices just happened. i don't know how. i dont know why. but i think they're here to stay, since i can't have the actual characters in here for now


	3. Side-Eyes to Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus deals with the aftermath of the Boggart Incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus starts doing things on his own finally!!

Once safely back in his office, Remus thought about whether or not he should tell Harry about his connection to James. On the one hand, Harry must wonder why Remus acted differently towards him than other students. It would be prudent for the boy to know that Remus singled him out because Harry would always be special in his mind. However, several people had probably told Harry all about James by now. He had been well-liked in his days at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore, McGonagall, and the other professors must have told Harry many stories concerning his father. Harry was probably sick of all the reminders of the past and the future he could never have.

No, Remus resolved to keep his mouth shut. For no reason other than not wanting to bore Harry, of course. The fact that talking about James Potter would also mean talking about Sirius Black had no bearing on the situation. None whatsoever.

Remus fought the urge to bang his head against his desk, and instead began to grade Colin Creevey’s rather dramatic piece about how to jinx a hinkypunk even if you couldn’t see it. It deserved a five out of ten, but Remus had seen the boy darting around corridors, afraid of being attacked by a giant snake. It couldn’t be very conducive to learning. He gave him a seven out of ten.

“Remus,” McGonagall walked in, hands on her hips. When Remus was a student, he knew that meant he had been found out. Somehow, he didn’t doubt it meant the exact same thing now, even when he was a professor.

“Yes, Professor?” he asked innocently.

“I heard you dressed Professor Snape in Longbottom’s grandmother’s clothes,” she said, with a single, pencil-thin eyebrow raised. Remus had been under that glare many times, and yet it never lost its potency.

“Not at all, Professor,” Remus said as innocently as he could manage. “I think you will find that Neville dressed Professor Snape in his grandmother’s clothes.”

“At your behest,” McGonagall pointed out.

“At the Boggart’s behest,” Remus countered. “How am I supposed to teach them how to handle magical creatures if they don’t want to? I merely gave Neville - and the rest of the class - incentive.”

“You have always been the best at squirming out of trouble,” McGonagall sat down opposite him. _The best. Out of the Marauders_. “For once, however, Remus, I am not _trying_ to get you into trouble. I try not to speak ill of my coworkers, but someone needed to remind Severus that he is not the only teacher capable of showing a tiny bit of favoritism.”

“So you’ve noticed,” Remus said.

“How could I not?” McGonagall fingered the rim of her hat before sighing. “I have talked to Professor Dumbledore about it and he refuses to reprimand him, saying that Snape will do what he feels is right. I quite agree with that, only that what Snape feels is right is, in fact, _not_ right. I could never favor Gryffindor in return. That would bend my morals too far.”

“What about my morals?” Remus allowed himself a small smile. “Sacrificed for a good cause?”

“What morals, Mr. Lupin?” McGonagall’s own mouth twitched in an answering smile. “If I recall correctly, you’ve always favored Gryffindors.”

Remus sat up straighter, “My days of favoritism are over I’m afraid, Professor. I will treat each of my students with the respect they deserve.”

“I would expect nothing less of a Hogwarts professor, of course,” McGonagall stood to go. “But if you do happen to favor one particular student… well, I don’t think the rest of the professors would mind horribly.”

“Sni - Severus would,” Remus said.

“Was that supposed to be a disadvantage?” McGonagall asked with a complete poker face. She swept from the room. Remus sat back and laughed.

For the first time since he had arrived a week and a half ago, Remus graded his papers in the staff room. All the other teachers seemed to do their work in here, but it still felt forbidden to Remus. He wondered how long it would take before he felt like a Hogwarts teacher, not a student out of his element. Flitwick had passed by, making conversation, and Professor Vector sat in the corner, huddled over her papers making disapproving clucking noises.

Remus found it easier to focus when surrounded by people. His years of studying had been filled with the other three creating some sort of raucous around him. It was comforting.

“I’m off to lunch,” Vector announced to Lupin, sitting up. “Are you coming?”

“In a minute,” Remus said absentmindedly. “I have to finish a few more.”

“You’re going to be here all evening,” Vector said knowingly, and passed him a piece of chocolate. “If you still like this as much as you used to.”

Remus took it gratefully, “How could I not? Thank you, Professor.”

“You can call me Septima, you know,” Vector said. “You’re not a student anymore.”

“Of course,” Remus forced a laugh. He would always be a student. When Vector left, he was all alone again, but evidence of other people around him reinforced the feeling of being with someone. Besides, it was warmer in here than in his office.

“Lupin,” a voice said from the doorway - oh so familiar and oh so unwelcome. Remus wished to be alone again for the first time in many years.

“Hello, Severus,” Remus said amiably. “Come to grade papers?”

“To find you, actually,” Snape said with a sneer. Remus slipped the hand further from Snape into his robes. He gripped his wand firmly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a little chat.”

“Not at all,” Remus gestured with his free hand. “What would you like to talk about?”

He was treating Snape like he would treat a student, and it was clearly driving the Potion’s professor mad. He sat in a chair that Remus hadn’t indicated. Remus nearly rolled his eyes. 

“I want to know, Lupin, what you get out of it,” Snape said, with no preamble. There was never any preamble with him.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Remus said calmly. Snape, at least in his childhood, had always responded to Remus as the less threatening Marauder - capable of handling his own fights, but unwilling to start them. James would’ve said _What on earth do you mean, Snivellus_ ? and Sirius would most likely have sent a few spells his way at this point. Remus was actually asking Snape what he meant, treating him like an equal. Unfortunately, Snape didn’t see them as equals. He thought Remus was below him - a half-blood, yes, but a _werewolf_ . A _degenerate_. How dare he treat Snape as though they were on the same level? Snape’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t whip out his wand.

“Why do you enjoy taunting me?” Snape asked, then regretted it.

“I do not,” Remus replied. “If that’s all, Severus-”

“Then why do you do it?” Snape didn’t move. Remus stared at him, unwilling to acknowledge Snape’s victim theory.

“I cannot recall having taunted you,” Remus said, and it was true. It was always James and Sirius, with Remus cleaning up their messes. He was still cleaning up their goddamn messes. But they had defended him without a second thought, always by his side, always ready to punch Snape in his greasy hooked nose whenever he taunted the scars or the shabby robes.

“What do you think the Boggart incident was, then?” Snape hissed, his hands clenched on the armchair. Ah. Here it was.

“It was a Boggart that I taunted,” Remus said. “Not you. I would think that you would approve of me trying to teach the students how to defend themselves from dark magical beasts.”

“Might as well teach them how to kill _you_ ,” Snape gloated. He had found his werewolf opening, but only because Remus had given it to him. Remus didn’t flinch. He was far too used to that by now for it to sting him.

 _Bastard_ , Sirius-voice said. _I’m thinking_ Levicorpus _right about now. To expose him the way he wants to expose you._

 _Or we could always try walking away,_ James-voice suggested. _Report it to Profes-_

 _Merlin, you’re a ninny,_ Sirius complained. _Ever since Evans told you to-_

_Alright, it was just a suggestion, you don’t have to whine about Lily, you pric-_

_Enough!_ Remus ordered them. _I will do neither._

They fell silent, but he could feel their encouragement like a balm. They would support him, in whatever he did. 

“Werewolves are near the end of our lesson,” Remus said plainly. “I will teach them all they need to know when we arrive at it.”

“Will you dress up in grandmother’s clothes?” Snape demanded. “Because if not, I think it’s only fair that you show them what it’s like to transform into the wolf. That would be embarrassing enough to make up for my humiliation, don’t you think, Lupin?”

“Considering the fact that it would be extremely dangerous, I don’t think Professor Dumbledore would allow it,” Remus refused to rise to the bait.

“You shamed me without clearing it with him first,” Snape pointed out, as though that were any argument at all. But Remus had had enough.

“Severus, before you blame me for the unfortunate incident with the Boggart,” he said, lips tight in a surprisingly good imitation of McGonagall. “I want to tell you what _exactly_ a Boggart is.”

“I _know_ what a Boggar-” Snape began to stand. Remus sat him back down with a pointed glare.

“Clearly, you do not. A Boggart manifests itself as a person’s greatest fear. If you were not one of the student’s greatest fears, then the entire incident would never have occurred. Whose fault, pray tell me, is that? I was not getting back at you, Severus. I was trying to help a student feel some semblance of happiness again - happiness that you steal from him every time you are in a room. The only person you have to blame is yourself.”

“Said like a true Marauder,” Snape said, curling his lip.

“Why, thank you,” Remus tilted his head and gave Snape a small, cold smile.

“You lot never take any part of the blame-” Snape went on. Remus cut him off.

“Every single student in the room had their chance with the Boggart,” Remus said. “Every single _third year_ had a chance with that Boggart. You were the only person it manifested into. It is entirely your fault, Severus. And if you insist that I played a trick on you, then fine. I will not stand for you abusing students, Severus. You forget, you are an adult now. You can cause lasting damage.”

“Children can cause lasting damage just fine,” Snape stood to go.

“Yes, they can,” Remus said softly. “I’m sorry to see just how much. But it does not excuse your behavior.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Snape strode to the door and flung it open. “Don’t pretend you are some higher authority, Lupin.”

 _Certainly higher than you are, you great bloody ponce_ , James-voice shouted.

 _Hex him, Remus_. Sirius-voice added.

“If I don’t then who will?” Remus lifted his chin. He could feel the arrogance of the other two seep into him. He could feel what they felt everytime they saw Snape. “I am, after all, a true Marauder.”

Snape flung himself out of the room, door slamming shut behind him. The room rattled. Remus went back to grading his papers.

“I heard you told Professor Snape off for confronting you about the Boggart incident,” Professor Flitwick smiled. Remus did like working around people, but the amount of times they interrupted him was becoming astounding. They all had something to say to him all the time, and yet none of it was substantial at all. Remus looked up wearily.

“I did no such thing,” he said. It was true - he did not tell Snape off for confronting him, he told him off for their every having been an incident at all.

“Then why did he storm out of the teacher’s room?” Flitwick asked. “I heard the Fat Friar talking to the Gray Lady about it.”

“Severus storms continuously in and out of rooms,” Remus said wryly, then regretted it until Flitwick laughed. “And, as you may have gathered from our schoolboy days at Hogwarts, we never liked each other much.”

“Well, it wasn’t you he disliked that much,” Flitwick shrugged. “It was James Potter.”

“And Sirius Black,” Remus said cautiously. He waited for Flitwick’s reaction, which was disappointing but predictable.

“Yes, ah, well, must be off,” Flitwick hurried away. Remus couldn’t deny it. He thought of Sirius and James constantly, and it was getting to the point where their memories lived in his head as though they were reality. The more he thought about it, the less he could reconcile Sirius’ betrayal with Sirius’ whole life. And Remus had known Sirius better than anyone except James, who had trusted his friend to the last.

The fact remained, however, that Sirius was James and Lily’s Secret Keeper and, therefore, was the one to betray them. The only one who could have betrayed them.

Unless… no. That was impossible. Dumbledore would have told him - Dumbledore would have cleared Sirius of all charges! If the Potters had switched their Secret Keeper, they surely would have told Dumbledore, or Remus, or _someone_. Someone other than Sirius and themselves - for why would they not just make Remus the Secret Keeper if they didn’t want Sirius?

It all came down to this - Sirius was the Secret Keeper, and Sirius would always be first choice for Secret Keeper. Remus may have been James’ best friend, but Sirius was his brother. And Peter… Peter was like an adoring follower, too scared to stand up to a Dark Wizard. That was, again, another part of the story that hurt Remus to think about. Peter, the young boy who loved food and trusted Remus’ advice - he had been blown to bits.

Every thought Remus had was like biting down on a broken tooth - it hurt like a dull ache, but he absolutely could not stop, unless he was doing something to occupy himself.

Such as grading. He reluctantly picked up his quill again and bent his head low over Susan Bones’ essay on Redcaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummm... please let me know if the voices in Remus' head are weird... i like them but it might be over-kill


	4. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finally decides that he can't make it through Hogwarts without speaking with Harry.

“Apparently, Professor Dumbledore is laboring under the impression that I am willing to help you stay a teacher at Hogwarts,” Snape didn’t even bother greeting Remus as he swept into the room. “He is incorrect.”

“Dumbledore is very rarely incorrect about anything,” Remus said, sighing. He was getting used to being interrupted now, though Snape had been avoiding him like the plague. “Perhaps he is laboring under no impression of your desire to help, and merely knows that you will do it anyway.”

Snape’s upper lip curled, “Be that as it may, I hope you transform into a rabid wolf, bite the student’s in the school - hopefully, Potter, how ironic that would be - and get fired.”

“I am never rabid,” Remus said. “And I assume that is my potion?”

Snape drew the small bottle dramatically out from his cape and dropped it loudly on the table, where it disturbed a number of Remus’ lesson plans. He closed his eyes for a second, imagining the look on Snape’s face if he just hexed him right then and there. He would almost certainly be thrown out, but oh, how he would savor that moment.

_ Do it _ , Sirius-voice urged.

_ Absolutely, _ James-voice agreed.  _ You deserve it right about now. Rabid. Honestly. _

Remus realized, belatedly, that Peter was never a voice in his head. He was the Marauder that Remus was least close to - if it was possible to be a part of the Marauders and not be close to the others. Peter had adored James and Sirius, and Remus and Peter had always been the ones left behind. Remus dealt with this by holding his ground firmly and quietly. Peter dealt with this by following the boys around and always caving to their ideas. Remus had resented Peter for this on more than one occasion and when Peter had first found out about Remus being a werewolf he had reacted badly.

But for all that, Peter had ended up being the bravest of them all. Remus knew that, if he had been first to the information of Sirius killing Lily and James, he could never have faced him down. He might have fled or arranged a private meeting. Just looking at Sirius’ face, he would have melted, but Peter had held fast - although Peter wasn’t in love with Sirius, which might have been an advantage.

Snape had taken Remus’ silence for a dismissal which, Remus supposed, it was. The Potions Master swept out of the room with a scowl. He could never hex Snape, no matter how sorely tempted he was. He was no longer a child and he didn’t have his big, strong friends to hide behind. Too late, he realized he should have thanked Snape. Ah, well. There was always next time - and the next ten months. 

Remus stood, stretching his legs. What he needed, he decided, was a nice cup of tea from the House Elves. They were good company and never asked questions. He headed down to the kitchen, absentmindedly tickling the pear. Too late, he realized, professors didn’t go to the kitchens. Only troublemaking students and the occasional rule follower ended up down here. He would never be a real professor. He felt more at home surrounded by house-elves than in the staff room. He sighed.

“Hello,” he greeted them. Immediately, every single one froze. “Er, it’s me. Remus Lupin. D’you, remember me?”

The bustle of activity started again, only this time, they all surrounded him. Platters of chocolate and steaming mugs of tea were laid before him. His favorite type of biscuit - the one his mother had always served him - was arranged carefully next to the tea.

“So, you do remember me,” Remus smiled. He didn’t know that house-elves had sarcasm, but one gave him a look that clearly said, ‘ _ Oh, no, we couldn’t possibly remember you when you came down to the kitchens every week for seven years. _ ’

Lovely. Now he was assigning made-up scripts to creatures that  _ literally _ had voices. Next, he would respond out loud to this made-up conversation to one of his students. They would look at him as though he were crazy. He thought, perhaps, he was a little mad. His only companions were the voices in his head, after all.

The days dragged on like this. The only times Remus looked forward to were his times in the kitchen and his classes. He hadn’t realized it but he had become a rather good teacher during his days at Hogwarts. He had learned to teach people like Peter, who could never fully grasp a concept, and people like James and Sirius, who never cared enough to try - though when they did, they were rather brilliant. He also knew how to teach people like himself, the ones who learned voraciously to assure themselves that they belonged in this world. It didn’t hurt that the students genuinely seemed to like him, They didn’t know of his connection with James or Sirius or Peter or the monsters that go bump in the night and he could just be himself. 

Snape, Remus was sure, was whispering into Dumbledore’s ear about how he couldn’t be trusted.  _ How _ , Snape would argue,  _ was Sirius Black the only one to escape from an impenetrable prison unless he had help from a dangerous beast like Lupin? _ Remus wished he would level the accusations to his face so that he could defend himself but, then again, that was not the Slytherin way. That was not the  _ Snape _ way. To be completely fair, Remus tried to avoid confrontation as well. James or Sirius - would have brought it up to Snape by now, James by yelling and Sirius by hexing the living daylights out of him.

Remus avoided Snape as often as he could because he could not stand the veiled threats and the averted gazes of the teachers every time Snape slyly brought up his days at Hogwarts. In fact, the only time Remus was  _ ever _ alone with Snape was when he delivered the potion to him. Remus made a point to thank him every time and, yet, a simple ‘you’re welcome’ never fell from Snape’s lips.

“Remus, what do you think?” Professor Flitwick asked. Remus had long ago perfected the art of being lost in his thoughts and yet aware enough of the conversation around him to respond to any question.

“I agree that the students should be allowed to go to Hogsmeade,” he said mildly.

“You  _ would _ ,” Snape sneered. “Gryffindor bravery, is it?”

“No, not at all,” Remus sighed.

“Then you don’t think Sirius Black is a serious threat?” Snape said, tilting his head. Remus looked sharply up at him. 

_ Well, he couldn’t be a James threat, that’s for sure _ , James-voice said. Of course, the Marauders would make a joke about Sirius’ name. It was inevitable. 

“That’s not my reason either,” Remus said. “I merely think the students will go mad, cooped up in the castle with the dementors around them, and the threat of danger ever imminent. Everyone needs a break, and Hogsmeade is as safe as anywhere could be under the circumstances.”

McGonagall nodded, “That is Dumbledore’s reasoning as well. Until the threat looms nearer, the students - and the teachers - must have a break.”

Snape glared at Remus but said nothing more. Remus went back to eating his peas.

After dinner, McGonagall pulled Remus aside.

“Keep an eye on Potter, will you?” she said.

“Always, Professor,” Remus said absentmindedly, then his brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Oh, Sybil has told him he’s going to die,” McGonagall said airily. “Of course, this happens every year but… well, with Potter’s history of near-death experiences he might be a bit more afraid than most.”

“And he has reason to be,” Remus sighed. “Professor, Sirius was spotted in Hogsmeade recently. I read it in the papers.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, “And what,  _ exactly _ , does that have to do with Potter?”

Remus ran a hand through his graying hair, “I know you hate to remember, Professor, but Sirius was my...best friend”  _ lover  _ “If he escaped, he had a purpose. Sirius always had a purpose for the important things. What else could he want but Harry? What else is left for him?”

_ He certainly wouldn’t come back for me _ .  _ He made that  _ very _ clear. _

“Sirius is coming after Potter,” McGonagall agreed. “But he’s not allowed to go to Hogsmeade”

“No?” Remus nearly smiled. “How did he take the news?”

“Luckily, it was already taken care of for us,” McGonagall shrugged. “He ran away from home before he got the form signed.”

“He ran away from home? Why?”

“Apparently his aunt and uncle were being rude about James and Lily,” McGonagall peered at him, as though to gauge his reaction. Remus’ first instinct was confusion. He understood that people sometimes didn’t like James, though he would defend his best friend to his dying breath. But Lily. Everyone loved Lily. Every single person everywhere except the disgusting blood purists and -

“Harry was raised by  _ Petunia _ ?” Remus said, aghast.

McGonagall looked surprised, “I didn’t know you knew Lily’s sister.”

“I was friends with Lily too, you know,” Remus snapped. How could they have sent Harry to live with the Dursleys, who hated the sound of the word wizard and the two wizards who had brought Harry into this world even more? “I wasn’t only acquainted with murderers and werewolves.”

“I would never suggest such a thing,” McGonagall said.

“Not aloud, perhaps,” something reckless had taken over Remus, something that felt like Sirius. 

“Remus, for all your faults, I would never accuse you of being a bad person,” McGonagall leveled him with a stern gaze. “And I  _ do _ think of you as a person, first and foremost.”

Just like that, all his anger evaporated.

“Of course. I’m sorry, Professor,” Remus said, not meeting her gaze.

“I’m only surprised this hasn’t happened earlier, with the way the others have been tiptoeing around you.”

Remus gave her a faint smile, “I don’t tend to fight battles.”

“No,” McGonagall. “I suppose you don’t.”

Remus had made up his mind. Perhaps he didn’t want Harry to know the semantics of his twisted, dark past, but that didn’t mean Harry had to grow up with boorish Muggles as his only source of mentorship. He  _ would _ talk to him and he  _ would _ bond with him, dead parents aside. This plan did not have the nuance to explain how he would accomplish this, but it was a first step. 

Remus woke up dreading the day. It was Halloween, of course, and the castle would be abuzz with excitement for the feast and pumpkins whizzing about, but Remus wanted to turn over and sleep until tomorrow. Today was the horrible, fateful day when his entire life had been ripped from his hands and he was left the empty excuse for a human that he was.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but the large scar across his face seemed more pronounced than usual as his reflection stared back at him in the mirror. His hair was grayer, his eyes were duller, and his hands were shakier. Then again, his transformation was in a few days. It wasn’t unusual for his symptoms to be setting in now. 

He always imagined it. Voldemort sweeping into the house, his hand extended, prepared for the kill. James hadn’t even had his wand - he always had his wand. Lily had run - Lily never ran. Harry… Remus didn’t know what Harry had thought. Harry probably didn’t even know what he thought.

Oh, Merlin.  _ Harry _ . The poor boy would have to face the feast with the knowledge that his parent’s murderer was out there, roaming the streets. He would have to stare at the date of death down without justice having been served. Remus had to be strong for him. It didn’t matter that he had loved and lost four friends - family, not friends - today. Harry had lost the possibility of a family and, really, that was far worse. Remus swept on his old, ratty cloak with almost a sense of pride. His friends had died today, yes. But they had also saved the Wizarding World today, as Remus always knew they would. James and Lily were the brightest stars in the sky, and Remus would do his best to be there for their son.

“Remus, can you believe it is already Halloween!” Flitwick met him in the hall. “Of course, Christmas is always my favorite, but Halloween is one of the best holidays for charmwork.”

Remus forced a smile, “And makes for some good Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.”

Flitwick chuckled, “Yes, you can teach them all about the monsters of the night.”

Immediately, both of them fell silent.  _ A monster _ , Remus thought with a touch of amusement,  _ just like me _ . Usually, the comments about him left the smallest mark, like a papercut, but he felt like he had a shield today. Today, two of his family had died to protect the Wizarding World. Of the people alive, only he and their murderer knew them best, and Sirius couldn’t count anymore. They were his to share, and he would keep them close.

“Halloween,” Vector joined them, sighing. “Always nice to have a little break. How quickly the months pass.”

Remus allowed a little smile. He got a blasting reminder of the passing of the month, but he wouldn’t interrupt their festivity with his moroseness, not now.

“And the first Hogsmeade trip today,” Flitwick added. “As per Remus’ advice.”

He gave a small smile to his former student, which Remus returned. They had, by this point, reached the Great Hall, where Remus was swept up into the small talk of the other staff. Snape, Remus noted, seemed subdued today. Ironically, it was most likely Snape who felt closest to the pain of what Remus felt. Somehow, he didn’t think it would make them bosom buddies.

“Wonderful time for beasts and creepy-crawlies,” Professor Kettleburn was saying.

“Oh!” Remus exclaimed, “I forgot, I have a Gridylow being delivered today. Would you mind helping me get it settled, Silvanus?” 

“Not at all!” Kettleburn nodded happily. “Grindylow’s. Never been a personal favorite of mine, but they really fascinate the students.”  
“The dull-witted ones, perhaps,” Snape muttered. Remus wasn’t used to Snape being this openly nasty, especially in front of others. The professors ignored it. They were probably giving him a pass because Lily had died today. Remus felt a spike of anger in his chest. They were _his_. Snape did not get a free pass when it was his master that had killed them.

“Just because they don’t share your interests doesn’t make them stupid,” Remus commented. Snape looked up sharply but, at that moment, McGonagall stood up to make an announcement about Hogsmeade, and Snape’s response was lost. 

Professor Kettleburn assisted Remus with the Grindylow, then bade him a quick farewell. It was clear that the creature’s presence disturbed him.

“You and me both,” Remus said wryly to the Grindylow. It, unsurprisingly, did not respond. Remus sat at his desk, taking a deep breath. He hated being alone, today of all days. He clenched his teeth, then decided to make a pot of tea. That usually calmed his nerves. He stood to make it, grabbed the kettle out, then sat down again.

Lily would always offer. She knew how tea calmed him, and how he was always stressed. She liked to be occupied. James did, too, but tea never satisfied him. He had always been  _ moving _ . He would steal the Snitch, or lazily try out a highly advanced Transfiguration technique, or play with Harry. He could almost see him in his mind’s eye, walking past his office door. No, wait-

“Harry?” Remus called out. After a second, the boy in question’s face appeared in the doorway. Remus almost sent him on his way again but he absolutely could not. Not today when he needed company, when he swore to take this boy under his wing. “What are you doing?” and then, at the lack of his two constant companions, “Where are Ron and Hermione?”

That would be a question leveled at him by anyone and everyone if he didn’t travel with James, Sirius, and Peter. And, true to form, he always knew where they were. He couldn’t very well leave them unsupervised.

“Hogsmeade,” Harry said nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. He saw the longing in his eyes, and Remus remembered McGonagall’s words from a few days ago.

“Ah,” he responded, “Why don’t you come in? I’ve just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson.”

“A what?” Harry said, and Remus knew he would come in. The boy followed him into the office, and Remus gestured to the Grindylow.

“Water demon,” he said absentmindedly, studying it. “We shouldn’t have much trouble with it, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle.”

The Grindylow dived into the weeds. Remus couldn’t blame him for being a little shy. Remus couldn’t think of a pretext to keep Harry here, so he decided to give up on the notion that this was normal.

“Cup of tea?” he offered. He surveyed the room for his kettle. “I was just thinking of making one.”

“Er, all right,” Harry said, shifting his weight. Remus pulled out his wand and tapped the kettle, which began whistling at once. This had been a present from James third year, and it still hadn’t broken. He was sure his friend had enchanted it to last forever.

“Sit down,” Remus said, as a forceful suggestion. Harry took it as Remus opened his tin of teabags. “I’ve only got teabags I’m afraid - but I daresay you’ve had enough of tea leaves?”

Harry looked up in surprise. Remus was half-surprised too. He had forgotten that he had a sense of humor and a decent one at that.

“How did you know about that?” Harry asked.

“Professor McGonagall told me,” Remus didn’t think lying would do any good. He poured out the tea and handed it to Harry. “You’re not worried, are you?”

“No,” said Harry. At that moment, he looked very much like James, when James was lying. Remus almost smiled.

“ _ Anything _ worrying you, Harry?”

“No,” Harry lied again. Remus was expecting him to bring up his parents but, then again, he didn’t know Remus knew them. Abruptly, he set down his cup. Remus looked up at him. “Yes. You know the day we fought the Boggart?”

“Yes,” Remus said cautiously. He didn’t know where this was going.

“Why didn’t you let me fight it?’ Harry burst out.

Remus nearly laughed. This was not at  _ all _ what he expected, “I would have thought that was obvious, Harry.”

It was Harry’s turn to look surprised, “Why?”

Remus assumed that Harry wouldn’t appreciate his need to protect the boy, so he picked the safer reason, “I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.”

Harry stared at him. Too late, Remus realized that he should have simply said the Dark Lord. Then again, he had been a member of the Order. He wasn’t about to act like a coward to make people comfortable. And Harry didn’t seem scared at all.

“Clearly I was wrong?” Remus questioned. Harry’s face relaxed, which Remus took to meant that he was right. “But I didn’t think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic.”

“I didn’t think of Voldemort,” Harry said, almost as a confession. “I- I remembered those Dementors.”

Remus had observed Harry closely, and become very fond of the boy. He may look like James, but his personality was almost all Lily - his kindness, his need for peace, his fierce desire to do the right thing all warring. He didn’t realize he could be more proud with a few words.

“I see. Well… well, I’m impressed,” he managed. Harry looked confused. He smiled. “That suggests that what you fear most of all is - fear. Very wise, Harry.”

_ Load of bollocks _ , Sirius-voice whispered.

_ Such a Moony thing to say. Very poetic, _ James-voice said. 

Harry drank some tea without a response. Remus realized, suddenly, the implications of Harry’s questions.

“So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?” Remus extrapolated. That would be an insult to anyone - especially if that anyone was related to James Potter.

“Well… yeah,” Harry gave Remus a tentative smile. “Professor Lupin, you know the dementors-”

There was a knock on the door. Remus wanted to tell the person to go away but, unfortunately, he knew who it was and what it was for.

“Come in,” he called. Snape swept into the room. He stopped at the sight of Harry, Remus’ potion in his hands.

“Ah, Severus,” Remus smiled genuinely. He got the chance to connect with James’ son, and Snape was here to witness it. Perhaps it was alright to gloat occasionally. “Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”

Snape stepped forward and placed the goblet down, still mistrustful of Harry’s presence. Remus forced himself to mediate, even though he truly did not want to.

“I was just showing Harry my Grindylow,” he excused. Snape practically rolled his eyes.

“Fascinating. You should drink that directly, Lupin.”

Of course, just like Snape to direct focus onto the potion, the bane of Remus’ existence. And, as usual, he hadn’t bothered to use his first name, as though they were still schoolboys.

“Yes, yes I will,” Remus nodded. He had been taking this potion since he came to Hogwarts. He knew how it worked - as Snape knew. Snape merely wanted Harry to be curious.

“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape refused to leave. “If you need more.”

Unfortunately, he probably would. If he could already feel the pains, this moon would be a bad one, “I should probably have some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.”

“Not at all,” Snape said, in a voice that said he would much rather not have this inconvenience. Still unsure of Harry, he backed out of the room unsmiling. Harry watched the goblet, though he was polite enough not to ask. Very much his mother’s son, then. James would have already accused Snape of trying to poison him.

“Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,” he said. “I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex.”

He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. As always, it smelled like sludge and fur. “Pity sugar makes it useless.”

He took a sip, and couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through him. As always, it tasted like sludge and fur.

“Why-?” Harry began, then stopped as he thought it might be rude. Remus finished the unanswered question.

“I’ve been feeling a bit off-color” which wasn’t a lie, “This potion is the only thing that helps,” then, for fun, “I’m very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it.”

Harry eyes the goblet, then said abruptly, “Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts.”

Remus nearly spat out the drink - and not because it was disgusting. James’ son, after all. Or perhaps Lily would have warned him, too, if she believed there was real danger. She had always tried to be practical, but impulsivity won.

“Really?” Remus tried to school his face into a vaguely interested expression. Harry who, apparently, had decided to take the plunge.

“Some people reckon,” he paused, then, “some people reckon he’d do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.”

Remus wanted to laugh but he owed it to Snape who, in this case, really was doing him a favor - although Harry wasn’t wrong that he would just as soon poison Remus. Instead, he gulped the whole thing down in one mouthful. That wiped the smile right off his face.

“Disgusting,” he made a face. He decided that he couldn’t fend off many more Snape accusations and now, at least, Harry knew his door was always open. He had to be alone to sulk now. “Well, Harry, I’d better get back to work. See you at the feast later.”

“Right,” Harry set down his teacup. With one final look at the goblet, he left the room. Remus sat there, staring at his empty seat for half an hour. For almost a moment, it felt as though James and Lily were with him.


End file.
